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LOEWS   BRIDGE, 

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3100 


BROADWAY  IDYL. 


NEW  YORK : 
M.    DOOLADY,    PUBLISHER, 

44S    BROOME    STREET. 
1867. 


Entered,  according  to  Act  of  Congress,  in  the  year  1867,  by 
M.   DOOLADY, 

In  the  Clerk's  Office  of  the  District  Court  of  the  United  States  for  the 
Southern  District  of  Xe\v  York. 


JOHN  J.  REED,  PRINTER  AND  STEREOTYPE!?, 
43  Centre  Street,  New  York. 


A  BROADWAY  IDYL. 


IT1  OR  hours  I  stood  upon  THE  BRIDGE,  (') 
Which  looms  like  a  volcanic  ridge, 

Above  a  scathing1  fire  below. 
A  flaming  crater  of  burning  hearts — 
And,  as  souls  passed  beneath  my  feet, 
As  weary  souls  passed  to  and  fro 
A  knowledge  came,  so  sad,  yet  sweet, 

Each  inner  life  I  seemed  to  know. 


6  A  BEOADWAY  IDYL. 

Oh,  heaven  and  earth  !  the  sins  and  sorrows 
That  scarred  each  heart  with  countless  furrows  ! 
And  yet  I  had  a  glimpse  of  love ; 
For  maidens,  pure  as  snow-white  dove 

And  innocent  of  guile, 
All  heedless  of  this  world  of  pain, 

Passed  under  with  a  smile. 

Bright  rosy  cheeks,  the  badge  of  health — 
Eyes  dancing  in  their  mirth — 

And  rose-bud  lips  as  yet  impressed, 

Soft  golden  hair,  by  none  caressed, 

For  save  the  passion  born  at  birth, 


A  lill  GAD  WAY  IDYL.  7 

And  vanity  the  sin  of  wealth, 

Their  hearts  were  pure,  free  of  the  lust, 
Which  aye  debases  mortal  dust. 

And  faces  sweet  as  Poet's  dream, 

Sad  as  the  fair  Evangeline, 

Or  like  Maud  Muller.  by  the  stream 

In  the  meadows  raking*  hay, 
Whose  face  betrays  the  "  vag'ue  unrest" 
Which  drives  from  every  human  breast 

All  happiness  away. 
Some  seeking-  for  their  ••  Gabriel," 
Some  mournin.21  for  lost  "  Jud^e." 


8  A  BROADWAY  IDYL. 

Some  hiding'  'neath  a  smiling*  face 

The  sorrow  I  know  well, 
The  sorrow  which  makes  hearts  but  graves, 

And  faces  monuments. 

Full  many  a  floweret  passed  beneath, 

Clasping1  the  hand  of  sin, 
And  childish  voices  in  merry  g'lee, 

Made  musical  the  din, 
Like  some  sweet  symphony  which  swells 

Amid  the  noise  on  battle  field, 
Waking",  in  many  a  heart,  the  wells 

Of  some  emotion 


A   BROADWAY  IDYL. 

Long  since  dead  to  all  save  One 
Who  for  us  gave  His  only  Son  ; 

And  over  me  a  softness  crept, 
And  pining'  for  my  own.  I  wept. 

Thank  God  for  children!  for  they  give 
New  life  to  those  who  would  not  live. 
But  that  the  bonds,  so  holy  bound, 
Like  some  fresh  vine,  an  oak  around 
Their  aching  hearts,  too  full  of  grief, 
Which  find  in  bondage  sweet  relief. 
God  bless  each  childish  happy  face, 
Each  fairy  form  so  full  of  grace — 


10  A   BROADWAY  IDYL. 

For  without  children  life  would  b° 
Devoid  of  all  its  purity. 

An  angel?    No,  'tis  but  a  child  of  earth. 
But  Venus  smiled  at  that  fair  maiden's  birth, 
True,  Poverty  has  placed  on  her  his  mark 

Of  scanty  garments — 
But   tattered   robes   hide   not    the   wealth   and 

grace 
That  nature  showered  on  hair,  and  form,  and 

face. 

Full  many  a  childless  parent  would  bestow 
Cold,  yellow  glittering1  gold,  could  that  fair  child 


A  BEOADWAY  IDYL.  11 

With  her  pure  face,  by  art's  hand  undefiled, 

Have  been  her  very  own. 
But  Nature  sells  not.  freely  does  she  give, 
God  in  His  wisdom,  that  we  all  may  live 

Contented  with  our  lot, 
Gives  mind  and  beauty  to  His  favored  few, 
To  some  He  grants  more  than  their  meed  of 

wealth, 
And  to  the  rest  He  opes  His  store  of  health. 

This  child  is  leading1  by  her  gentle  hand 

Her  ag^ed  grandsire,  on  whose  sightless  eyes 
The  hand  of  Time  has  placed  his  seal  of  seals. 


12  A   BROADWAY  IDYL. 

Nor  will  they  open,  until  in  the  skies 
Light  of  all  light  His  glorious  self  reveals. 

OH,  on  they  pass — but  ah  !  that  piercing  scream 

Awakes  me — is  it  but  a  dream  ? 

No  !  there  lie  stands  in  middle  of  Broadway 

A  frozen  statue,  moving  neither  way. 

A  horse  is  near  him,  and  with  instinct  rare 

The  little  child,  who  makes  his  life  her  care7 

As  if  to  shield  him  from  approaching  harm, 

Twines  her  fair  arms  about  his  aged  form. 

I  hold  my  breath ;  but  ah,  no  need  of  fear, 

The  watchful  guardian  of  the  Bridge  (2)  is  near, 


A   Jt  ROADWAY  IDYL.  13 

Robed  in  his  blue  coat,  with  the  star  of  gold, 
Whose  courage  gives  him  mine  of  strength  un 
told  ; 

He  hurls  the  horso  back,  and  they  onward  move, 
The  loving  iruided  by  the  hand  of  love. 

A  rag-man  passes,  clad  in  vesture  poor. 

O  scorn  him  not,  for  in  his  dirty  bag1 
Is  many  a  space  for  thoughts  to  rest  upon — 

Of  countless  value  is  each  little  rag : 
Like  trifles  they  accumulate, 

And  when  they  mingle  into  one, 
By  trying  process  changing  state, 


14  A  BROADWAY  IDYL. 

Upon  their  surface  lurks  the  hate 
Or  love,  of  many  a  nation. 

Tis  well  we  think  not.  as  we  cast  aside 

The  tiny  fragments  of  our  daily  task, 

Of  the  dread  tid ing's  those  same  rag's  may  bring1 

E'en  to  our  door. 

Some  great  man's  fate,  like  Maximilian's  doom, 
May  o'er  even  strangers  cast  a  death-like  gloom. 
Some  unjust  act,  a  NATION  put  to  shame, 
Some  lines  of  praise,  but  pages  full  of  blame. 
Praise  g-ive  to  poets,  for  'tis  poets'  due, — 
Worth  should  be  granted  to  the  rag-man  too, 


A  nnoAnwAY  IDYL.  15 

For  in  his  hands  the  firm  foundation  lies, 
Upon  which  poets'  airy-castles  rise. 

Down,  down  from  Romance's  perch,  my  muse, 

Wipe  Fancy's  dust  from  off  thy  shoes: 

Let  good  and  pure  rest  for  a  while, 

Portray  realities  of  guile. 

Guile  1     Say.  is  there  real  guilt  on  earth? 

And  shall  we  all  be  judged 
By  sins — not  weakness  7- 

God  forbid  ! 

Mortals  we  are.  conceived  in  sin — 
None,  none  are  pure,  all  ;;  might  have  been," 


16  A   BROADWAY  IDYL. 

Had  woman's  heart  been  made  of  stone. 
All,  all  are  frail,  and  she-  who  passes  now 
With  stains  of  sin  upon  her  pallid  brow, 

And  misery  untold  within  her  heart, 

I  leave  to  Him  who  said, 
"  Neither  do  I  condemn  thee.  go  thy  way 
And  sin  no  more."  for  what  art  thou  but  clay  ! 

Weary  and  slow  she  passes  'neath  the  arch, 
And  now,  upon  her  face  I  see  a  flush,  as  if  her 

youth 

Had  been  renewed  by  some  glad  truth. 
As  glancing  up,  into  a  manly  face, 


A  BROADWAY  IDYL.  17 

She  speaks  her  greeting-  with  a  pleading-  grace. 
No  word   from   him  :  naug-ht  save  a  smile  of 

scorn ! 
Alone  she  stands — he  with  the  tide  moves  on. 

All  color  from  the  flushing-  cheeks  now  dies, 
Hands  press  her  heart  to  stifle  woe's  deep  cries. 
And  onward,  moved  by   demon  of   despair, 
She  braves  the  "  king1  of  terrors  "  in  his  lair. 
Say,  is    she    saved  1     Will    the    grim  spectre, 

Death, 
Take  from  her  more  than  life's  short  fleeting 

breath  ? 


18  A    miOADWAY  IDYL. 

Doom  her  to  endless  misery  of  mind, 

Leaving"  a  tainted  name  behind  ? 

Men  swell  the  current, — many  of  them  wear 
Upon  their  brows  the  cruel  badge  of  care. 
The  mogic  Greenback,  like  some  rolling1  ball. 
Gathers  the  man-moss, hurls  them  into" Wall." (3) 
Each  eager  face  in  passing  seems  to  say— 
"  Chasing  a  dollar,  comrades,  clear  the  way ! 
[  am  ambitious,  and  I  fain  would  win  : 
Would  gain  the  dollar  even  if  I  sin." 
And  oft,  alas,  in  raging  lust  for  gold, 
Life's  cup  is  broken,  and  a  soul  is  sold  ! 


A   I!  ROAD  WAY  IDYL.  19 

Some  push  along  with  satisfaction's  air, 
While  others  wear  the  visage  of  despair. 
Some,  looking*  forward,  in  perspective  see 
When  their  one  dollar  shall  ten  thousand  be. 
Some  glancing  upward,  building  in  the  sky 
Bright  airy  castles  soon  to  fade  and  die  : 
While  sad-faced  men  look  backward  and  pass  on 
Cursing  the  day  that  ever  they  were  born. 
For  empty  pockets  begets  woes  untold, 
And  friends  and  comfort  vanish  with  our  gold. 
Then  should  we  wonder  that  the  trash  is  sought, 
With    which    e'en    friendship    is   oft    sold    and 
bought ] 


20  A  BROADWAY  IDYL. 

There,  mark  the  difference  in  the  prosperous  man, 
And  one  who  gains  existence  as  he  can — • 
One  with  his  head  erect,  the  other  bowed, 
The  poor  are  humble,  but  the  rich  are  proud. 

Hark  !  surely  there  is  music  in  the  air ! 

'Tis  "Dixie"  floating  on  this  Northern  breeze. 
Thrilling  each  South-ern  heart  with  thoughts 

Of  a  lost  Nation's  hope,  and  her  despair. 
This  world  is  strange,  'tis  an  anomaly ! 
For  glancing  downward  now  I  see 

o  o 

A  one-armed  soldier,  in  a  coat  of  blue — 
And,  by-the-by,  his  legs  are  missing  too. 


A   BROADWAY  IDYL.  21 

Grinding1  with  his  one  hand  the  "Dixie"  song". 
Perchance,   who  knows,   that    very  tune,    was 

played, 
When  in  the  midst  of  some  ir.ad  martial  raid 

The  missile  came  alonor 
Which  left  of  noble  manhood  but  the  wreck. 

Now.  standing-  by  his  side,  is  one 
I  know,  a  warrior,  brave  for  Southern  rights  : 

All  strife  is  ended,  and  all  warring"  done. 
And  the  blue-clad  soldier's  eyes  seem  dancing 
lights, 

As  in  his  hand  the  Southern  warrior  places 


22  A  P> ROADWAY  IDYL. 

His  mite  ;  true,  'tis  a  small  donation, 
But  it  betrays  the  great  appreciation 

Of  a  brave  soul,  for  spirit  kindred  born.(4) 

Now  ':  Yankee  Doodle  "  falls  upon  my  ear, 
Then  "  Erin's  Wearing-  of  the  Green  "  I  hear  ; 
And  as  the  human  current  moves  along, 

o  • 

I  read  their  Nation  as  each  hears  the  song— 
For  faces  speak,  and  eyes  will  tell  the  truth  : 
When  Memory,  with  swift  electric  string, 
Draws  Past  to  Present,  on  sweet  music's  wing. 
A  tear  in  manhood's  eye  is  no  disgrace, 
And  pity  lends  a  charm  to  every  face. 


A  BROADWAY  IDYL.  23 

Statesmen,  the  satellites  of  Fame, 
Are  m in !>*! ini*1  \vith  the  throng;. 

o  +j  ^->  ' 

Some  heart  sore  with  a  Nation's  blame, 
Some  charmed  by  the  Siren  son0; 

Of  present  popularity. 
Ah  me  !  how  changes  tide  with  time, 

Public  opinion  is  as  vacillating* 
As  seasons  are,  forever  on  the  chang-e, 
Warm,  temperate,  cold,  in  chang-ing*  only  true, 
Or  like  some  serpent,  with  its  roseate  hut', 
Of  commendation,  luring*  on  its  victim 
E'en  to  death ;  who,  wounded  by  the  stini-* 
Of  misconception,  like  the  poor  snail. 


24  ^   BROADWAY  IDYL. 

Shrinks  in  liis  shell,  and  starving-  for  fame, 
Dies  in  obscurity. 

New  eyes  are  mine — I  see  as  ne'er  before ; 
Not  forms  alone,  as  in  the  days  of  yore, 
But  acts — sins  long"  untold — 
And  acts  of  mercy  to  my  gaze  unfold. 

I  see  too,  lives  of  men, 

And  step  by  step,  I  trace  some  back  to  when 
With  ragged  jacket,  hatless  head,  and  feet 
Frozen  and  bare,  they  wandered  in  the  street, 
With  hope,  ambition,  faith  within  their  hearts, 

Whose  dirty  faces  bore  the  stamp  of  .MAX. 


A   L ROADWAY  IDYL.  25 

God's  own  insignia,  neither  wealth  nor  fame, 
Nor  riirht  by  birth  to  high  ancestral  name, 
Can  grant  such  priceless  boon. 

The  glory  be  to  him  who  can  declare 
I  am  the  founder  of  the  name  I  bear. 
Not  the  last  scion  of  the  great  of  earth, 
But  first ;  the  hour  which  gave  me  birth 
Shall  be  remembered,  until  time  shall  be 

Lost  in  the  mazes  of  Eternity. 
One  word  of  praise,  and  it  is  nobly  won 
For  him  who  said,  '•'  I  will  win  for  my  Son 

A  name  all  glorious  and  bright. "(5) 


26  A   BROADWAY  IDYL. 

Censorious  world !  oh  why  not  o'er  the  past 
Oblivion's  vail  in  its  soft  darkness  cast 

And  honor  irrant.  for  what  one  is  not  WAS. 

O  ' 

Our  City  rulers  puss  in  g'rand  array, 
Some  whose  each  step  pollutes  this  snowy  way, 
Whose  nervous  g'lances  tell  that  they  have  sold 
Their  honor  for  position  and  for  g-old. 
Others,  whose  pure  lives  can  command 
Respect,  aye  love,  of  all  e'en  in  this  land, 

Where  merit's  granted  but  to  favored  few. 
Our  present  Mayor,  with  abstracted  air, 
Comes  with  kind  greeting1,  for  high,  low  and  fair. 


A   B R  0  AD  WAY  IDYL.  27 

In  each  heart  holds  he  a  much  envied  place, 
And  his  position  fills  with  nameless  grace. 
And  yet  he  bears  upon  his  brow  the  badge 
Of  hope  deferred,  Ambition's  goal  half  won — 
The  raco  for  station  only  just  begun. (6) 

His  rival  follows,  and  determination 
Within  his  eye  shows  will  to  do,  or  dare- 
Not  only  will,  but  power, 
Dame  Nature's  priceless  dower. 
From  very  foot  the  mount  of  fame  he  trod  : 
Sprung  from  the  people,  he's  the  people's  god.(7) 

And  Authors,  too,  the  devils  of  the  quill, 


28  A  BROADWAY  IDYL. 

Who  daily,  hourly  their  poor  brains  distil: 
Exalted,  trampled  by  the  public  will ; 
And  yet  they  cater,  and  will  cater  still, 
Undaunted  by  the  missiles  hurled 

Each  day  by  a  censorious  world. 
Some  with  their  faces  beaming1  bright 
See  in  their  eyes  success'  light ; 
Some  who  on  yesterday  were  naught, 
To-day  they  find  themselves  the  sought 
And  courted,  for  their  irenius  bright, 
A  reputation 

Made  by  the  "  NATION," 


Growing  like  Jonah's  gourd  all  in  a  night. 


A   BROADWAY  IDYL.  29 

Arid  some  poor  sinner  who  awoke 
From  dream  of  fame,  alas  to  find 
His  fancy's  child,  child  of  his  mind, 
Damned  by  the  critics, 

Or  unnoticed  passed. 

Ah,  well,  when  he  is  dead,  perchance  his  name 
May  live  forever,  immortalized  by  fame. 
Such  is  the  world's  great  largess  to  the  dead, 
The  genius  who  when  living-  wanted  bread. 

'Tis  marvellous  how  mortals  can  invent 

The  ways  and  means  to  increase  worldly  stores. 

Scorn  not  beginnings,  and  each  small  thing-  prize, 


30  A  BROADWAY  IDYL. 

From  e'en  a  cord;(8)  sometimes  large  fortunes 

rise. 

Yon  apple-woman,  vender  of  small  wares, 
Stale  lozenges,  fruit,  candy,  and  vile  cakes, 
Who  sells  to  urchins  pennies'  worth  of  aches, 
Has  now  the  gold  safe  hoarded  in  the  bank, 
With  which  to  buy  hig'h  place  in  fashion's  rank. 
Merit  is  nothing,  money  rules  the  day 
Right  royally,  with  rare  despotic  sway. 

Something  familiar  comes  before  me  now, 
A  picture  of  the  Southern  cotton-plant. 
Broadway  to-day,  with  its  white  glittering  shield. 


A   1!  no  AD  WAY  IDYL.  31 

Is  not  as  pure  as  Southern  cotton  field ; 

With  flakes  of  snow  bursting  from  bolls  of 

green, 

Like  some  imprisoned  genius  scorning  to  be 
Confined  by  laws,  which  bind  society, 
And  breaking  bonds  is  wafted  on  the  breeze 
Of  public  favor,  or  gathered  by  the  slaves 

Of  Fashion,  whose  vile  hands 

Pollute  its  purity. 
True,  fragments  now  and  then 
Are  gently  taken  to  the  hearts  of  men — 
White  flowers  of  fancy  oftimes  sink  to  rest 
Deep  in  the  wells  of  some  fair  maiden's  breast : 


32  A  BROADWAY  IDYL. 

Pure  in  themselves,  they  yet  become  more  fail- 
By  contact  with  the  holy  thoughts  in  there. 

Cotton  and  slaves,  'twas  thus  we  counted  gold, 
The  slaves  are  free,  the  free  in  bondage  said  ; 
And  now  some  man  with  rare  prolific  brains, 
Genius  inventive,  by  the  name  of  Gaines, 
Has  made  a  bitters  of  the  cotton  plant ; 
Polluting  thus  the  hitherto  white  name 
By  clothing  it  in  the  vile  badge  of  shame. 

White,  glaring  white,  is  all  the  earth  below, 
And  Broadway  seems  a  '•'  universe  of  snow." 


A  BROADWAY  IDYL.  33 

Or  like  the  Ocean's  silver-crested  waves, 
Upon  whose  breasts   thousands  of  barks  arc 

tossed  ; 
Some    brave    the    storm, — by   cautious    pilots 

mann'd, 
Some  strike  on  breakers,  ere  they  reach  the 

land, 
And  are  forever  lost. 

E'er  yet  the  sun  his  quarter's  course  had  run, 
Buyers  and  sellers  their  day's  work  begun. 
Behind  the  counter  patiently  they  toil, 

Nor  mingle  with  the  busy  passing1  throng1 ; 


34  A  BROADWAY  IDYL. 

Save  here  and  there,  an  eager  care-faced  man, 
Who  wiping  cold  dew  from  his  tortured  brow, 
Seeks  '-Wall."  to  borrow  wherewithal  to  pay 
The  rude,  insulting',  taunting,  clamorous  crew, 
Who  all-importunate  demand  their  due. 

-Teachers  of  truth,  now  with  the  throng  pass  by, 
Some  hypocrites,  with  sanctimonious  air, 
Sin  in  their  hearts,  upon  their  faces  prayer. 
Preaching  the  truth,  and  living  but  a  lie, 
Make  me  repeat  this  maxim  ever  good — 
"  I  am  more   afraid   of  Error  in  the  guise  of 
Truth, 


A   BROADWAY  IDYL.  35 

Than  Truth  in  garb  of  Error."  ft 
Brave   was  the  man.  his  heart  was  pure  and 

strong", 

Who.  from  the  pulpit,  said  the  world  was  wrong 
To  clothe  the  Prodigal  in  direst  shame, 
And  bless  the  brother  with  a  stainless  name. 
'Tis  to  the  dying*  that  the  doctors  g'ive 
The  healing'  potion,  that  will  make  them  live. 
No.  not  the  righteous  did  Chvist  come  to  save, 
The  weak   need  courage,  not   the   strong-  and 

brave. 

He  passes  now,  upon  his  face  a  smile 


36  A   BROADWAY  IDYL. 

That  faces  wear,  when    hearts  are  free  from 

guile. 
"  Church  of  the  strangers,"  (10)  I  have  watched 

thy  growth, 
Have   seen  thee   from  a  mustard  seed  spring* 

forth, 

And  in  thy  towering-  majesty  arise, 
Until  thy  spreading-  branches  touched  the  skies, 
All  honor  be  to  him  whose  tender  care 
Has  raised  the  sapling-  to  a  tree  so  fair. 

And  ':  Norwood's  "  author,  whose  great  study's 
man 


A    BROADWAY  IDYL.  37 

Seems  seeking1  on  this  thoroughfare  to  find 
Some  subject  for  his  mighty  mind 

To  dwell  upon — 

With  which  to  charm  the  senses  of  the  millions 
Who    throng-    to    hear  him,  for  he's  Fashion's 

"  rage," 
As  one  will  be,  who  makes  his  church  a  theatre, 

His  pulpit  but  a  stag-e. 

Religion  in  this  wise,  enlightened  day, 
Is  free  to  all,  that  is,  if  all  have  gfold ; 

The  vilest  sinner  is  absolved  for  pay, 

And  to  him  wide  the  <>'rand  church-doors  unfold. 


38  A  BROADWAY  IDYL. 

But  woe  to  him  who  fain  would  enter  in 
The  gilded  fold,  whose  poverty's  his  sin. 

Now  is  the  Hall  clock  on  the  stroke  of  One ; 
The  Sultans  of  the  journalistic  art, 
Some  without  brains,  and  many  without  heat!, 
Come  forth  to  lord  it,  and  in  one  short  hour 
The  City  '11  quake  beneath  its  ruling-  power. 

The  daily  press, 
Whose  influence  is  almighty, 

Then  it  should 

Feed  greedy  masses,  with  the  pure  and  good, 
Not  gather  like  the  o-reat  Jove-headed  Wood. 

£J  C  / 


A    ft  ROADWAY  IDYL.  39 

The  daily  slander,  or  the  last  sensation, 
Showing  our  shame  to  every  foreign  nation. 
He's  for  the  South !  what  care  I  if  he  is, 
Good  can  be  found  here,  we  have  evil  South. 
The  MAX  I  honor  for  his  love  of  risrht 

o 

And  justice,  but  my  truthful  muse 

Can  give  no  merit  to  the  £:  Evening*  News." 

The  c;  Evening-  Mail  "  I  Arrant  an  honored  place 
In  the  home  circle,  for  its  columns  bear 

Naught  save  the  pure,  no  badge  of  our  disgrace, 

Nothing  that  Age  or  Youth  would  blush  to  see, 
or  heer. 


40  A   BROADWAY  IDYL. 

The  Poet  editor,  (")  whose  graceful  rhyme 
Touches  the  heart  like  the  soft,  sweet  chime 

Of  memory  bells,  approaches  now. 
His  hair  is  silvered  by  the  hand  of  Time. 
But  his  eyes  still  beam  with  the  youth  sublime 
That  wells  from  the  heart :  the  poetic  fire 
That  lives,  and  lives.  through  years  and  years, 
Whose  brightness  is  dimmed  not  by  joys  nor 
tears. 

Ah !  now  I  see  in  the  passing  throng1 

A  "  prophet  and  poet,"  our  (;  king-  of  song-,"(12) 

The  bard  of  Erin,  as  brave  and  true 


A   BROADWAY  IDYL.  41 

A  "  Private."  as  ever  wore  the  blue, 

Whose  bright  lights  of  genius  most  brilliantly 

shine, 
When  kindled  on  altar  of  love  and — wine. 

Now  conies  a  white-haired  man  with  mild  and 

lamb-like  face-, 
Kind,  gentle  eyes,  who  bears  an  honored  name, 

Beloved  by  friend,  revered  by  even  foe, 
Wields  the  pen-sceptre  with  majestic  grace,  (I3) 

Who,  by  example,  soothed  a  people's  hate, 
And  saved  a  nation  from  the  cursing  woe 
And  bitter  shame  of  striking  conquered  foe — 


42  A   BROADWAY  IDYL. 

Was  once  o  farmer's  lad  in  the  old  "  Granite 

State." 

The  hardy  sons  of  stern  New  England's  soil, 
Taught  from  their  birth   to  fear  not  want,  nor 

toil, 

Bear  not  the  marks  of  the  most  dire  disease 
That  Southerners  inherit, — love  of  ease 

Well,  times  have  changed,  the  galling  chain 
That  made  the  black  man  bow 

Subservient  to  a  master's  mighty  will, 
Is  broken  for  Eternity  ; 

And  with  that  chain  the  cord  that  bound 


A   BROADWAY  IDYL.  43 

Our  Southern  souls  in  idleness  to  earth, 
Wealth  earned   by  others,   strown  with  lavish 

hand, 
With  but  one  power,  the  power  to  command, 

Is  loosed, 

And  on  Ambition's  wings  our  eager  soul 
Can  reach  the  mount,  Ambition's   much-prized 

goal, 

And  grasping  to  our  hearts  the  spectre  Fame, 
We  faint  to  find  the  goddess  but  a  name. 

Dreaming  again  !     Ah,  how  the  memory  clings 
To  the  dead  past ;  a  touch  but  opes  the  door 


44  A  BROADWAY  IDYL. 

Of  tlie  dim  vista  of  departed  years, 
And  phantoms  of  our  hopes  and  fears, 

In  dreamy  indistinct  array, 
Seem  flitting-  up  and  down  this  snowy  way. 
A  loaded  wag-on  now,  has  ope'cl  the  door — 
"  Wilcox  and  Gibbs'  ''  machine — and    nothing" 
more.  (I4) 

Now,  I  am  in  the  sunny  land  of  flowers, 
And  smell  the  perfume  from  the  jasmine  bowers; 
By  opened  window  sit  I  half  my  days, 
Sewing"  the  while,  but  stopping  oft  to  gaze 
At  two  brig-lit  fairies,  who  with  sable  friends 


A   ]!  HO  AD  WAY  IDYL.  45 

Hide,  like  the  pixies, 

Underneath  the  petals  of  some  bright  flower, 
Whose  clear  celestial  hue 

My  darling's  shame,  with  their  bright  eyes  of 
blue. 

They  crown  each  other  with  the  garlands  fair, 

The   "grey-beard"  mingles  with  their  silken 

haii- 
Like  cords  of  silver,  with  the  jet  and  gold, 

Soft  tiny  hands  are  resting  on  my  brow, 
I  too  am  crowned  ; 

"  I  would  have  made  your  wreath  of  white," 


46  A  BROADWAY  IDYL. 

The  eldest  says,  :;  you  are  so  good, 
But,  mother,  sister  said  that  you  were  true, 
And  so  we  added  all  these  violets  blue." 
My  good  machine  partaking-  of  my  pride 
Sang1  one  sweet  song1,  and  made  the  stitches  fine, 
Making1  the  children  hers  as  well  as  mine. 

'Tis  half-past  one,  and  now  is  seen 
In  countless  numbers  eager  "  limbs  of  law  " 
Wending  their  way  to  "  Courtlandt  "  from  "Nas 
sau," 

To    while    away    an    hour   with    ;'  Smith    and 
Green."  (ls) 


A   BROADWAY  IDYL.  47 

Their  minds  to  fortify,  with  meat  and  drink, 
Ex  necessitate  rei,  to  enable  them  to  think. 
Law!  say.  what  is  the  law  but  power? 
The  strongest  mind  will  rule  the  hour. 
Kit^iit,  justice,  mercy,  ah  !  where  are  they  now? 
Not  in  this  land,  or,  if  here,  bound  in  chains. 
And  only  loosed  by  the  command  of  law, 
To  whose  decree,  howe'er  unjust  we  bow, 
In  meek  submission  low. 

This  science  intricate  we  trace 
E'en  to  the  dwelling  place 
Of  our  first  parents  ; 


48  A   BROADWAY  IDYL, 

Children  of  nature,  and  of  God, 

They  knew  not  there  was  sin 
'Till  Satan,  in  a  lawyer's  garb, 

Their  Eden  entered,  and  with  him  the  light 
Or  power  of  knowing  wrong  from  right. 
But,  like  his  children  of  the  present  day. 
By  statements  colored  in  a  le'jal  way, 
And  well  instilled  into  his  client's  mind 
By  the  rare  subtleties  of  lore  profound. 
Sowing  his  seed  into  prolific  ground. 
He  made  the   white   black,  and   the   darkness 

light, 
Changed  Adam's  day  into  eternal  night 


A   I1ROADWAY  IDYL.  49 

By  causing*  wrong"  appear  to  be  the  right : 
And  ever  thus,  as  serpents  charm  they,  when 
They  cast  their  glamour  on  the  eyes  of  men, 
And  their  each  word's  a  snare, — 
Of  Lawyers  then,  ye  innocent,  beware ! 

This  world's  a  stage,  each  mortal  acts  a  part 
Of  life's  deep  tragedy.     A  breaking  heart 
Is  often  hid  beneath  a  smiling  face. 
Ye,  over  righteous,  if  this  world's  a  stage, 
Why  scorn  the  mimic  copy  of  life's  page  1 
Sermons  are  preached  to  touch  the  hearts  of  men: 
No  sermon  ever  moved  my  heart,  as  when 


50  A  BROADWAY  IDYL. 

I   heard    sweet    ';  Fanchon,"   on    her   bended 

knee,  (l6) 
Sending-  above  to  the  kind  Deity 

A  maiden's  holy  prayer; 

And  then  and  there 
I  too  prayed  that  the  ray  divine 
Within  my  sinful  heart  should  shine. 

Oft  have  I  seen  the  eye  of  ag-e  grow  dim 
At  the  mere  attitude  of  homeless  (:  Rip."  (I7) 
No  temperance  lecturer  could  call  the  vow 
Which  once  burst  forth  in  passionate  impulsive 
ness, 


A   BROADWAY  IDYL.  51 

From  one  who  heard  the  play. 
"  Never,  oh  never,  shall  e'en  the  smallest  sip, 
So  help  me  God,  again  pollute  my  lip 

Of  aught  that  will  intoxicate  !" 
Surely  the  spirits  which  surround  us  rise 
And  register  such  vows  above  the  skies. 

Now  comes  a  spirit  brave,  I  ween, 
Who  on  the  theater's  board  is  queen, 
But  on  this  tragic  stageof  life, 
When  kinsmen  were  at  war  and  strife, 

An  angel  ministering  became.  (l8) 
In  sable  robes  she  stood  by  beds  of  death, 


52  A   BROADWAY  IDYL. 

Wiped  the  death  dews,  and  caught  the  latest 

breath 

Of  the  brave  boys  in  blue, 
Who  are  sleeping1  now  in  the  silent  grave, 
That  o'er  all  the  land  one  flag-  might  wave. 
It   waves — but   its    folds    are    dyed  with    the 

blood 

Of  the  murdered  martyrs,  the  brave,  the  true, 
Who  wore  the  GREY,  and  who  wore  the  BLUE  ! 

"  Physician,  heal  thyself!"  I  fain  would  cry 

To  those  devoted  to  the  healing  art, 

Who  in  vast  numbers  now  are  passing  by  : 


A   BROADWAY  IDYL.  53 

Is  there  one  wise  enough  to  heal 

A  wound  in  his  own  heart  ? 
Can  healing1  potions  which  the  Ibctors  give 
Imbue  the  fainting-  with  a  wish  to  live  ? 
Can  one  relieve  the  sleepless  nights  of  pain, 
Ambition's  meed,  the  torture  of  the  brain 
That  ever  grasps  beyond,  above,  so  high, 
That  all  its  efforts  prove,  alas  !  in  vain, 
And  weary,  sinking  to  the  earth, 
It  curses  hour  that  gave  it  birth, 

Dies,  or  becomes  insane  ? 

There  comes  an  old,  well  known  slouch  hat, 


54  A  BROADWAY  IDYL. 

Which    hides   no   slouching-    soul    beneath   its 

shade,  (l9) 

But  one  whose,  greatest  power  lies 
In  curing  body  by  first  healing  mind. 
Did  they  not  know  when  the  immortal  Davis  lay 

Within  his  prison  cell. 
That  the  Leach's  skill  was  not  in  drugs, 
Who  healed  and  made  him  well  1 
They  knew  not,  who  the  power  of  speech  denied, 

Of  histories  in  touch  of  hands  ; 

Of  volumes  in  a  glance. 

How  could  they  know  1  formed  of  earth's  com 
mon  clay, 


A   P>  RO  AD  WAY  IDYL.  55 

Of  the  magnetic  cords  which  bind 

The  thoughts  of  those  whose  natures  are  refined, 

Whose  bodies  are  subservient  to  the  mind. 

Strange,  how  a  mortal  by  the  power  of  will 
And  genius,  tho'  untutored  can  exalt 

Himself,  until  he  will  appear 

A  being  from  another  sphere. 

As  unlike  to  the  common  throng 

As  rhyming  jingle  to  a  stately  song'. 

Few  days  ago,  I  heard  kind  blessings  showered 
Upon  his  head  who  now  draws  near  :(20) 


56  A  BROADWAY  IDYL. 

Who  had  opened  the  once  closed  portals 

Of  a  soul's  doors. 
A  mother,  with  a  fearful  heart, 

Without  one  ray  of  hope, 
Placed  in  this  Doctor's  hands  her  only  child, 
Whose  beauty  needed  naught,  save  sight, 
To  make  it  seem  an  angel  bright. 
One  stifled  cry  !  l  Oh,  mother,  is  this  light  ? 
'Twas    black    before,    and,    mother,    now   'tis 

white. 

I  see  you,  mother,  and  I  see  God  too  ! ' 
The  little  child,  with  its  pure  instinct  rare, 
Felt  that  God's  spirit  surely  must  be  there, 


A   BROADWAY  IDYL  57 

For  mother  taught  Light  was,  at  God's  com 
mand, 
And  God  alone  could  hold  light  in  His  hand. 

The  seasons  change,  opinions  change, 
And  even  senses  change  with  time  ; 

In  age  we  see  not  with  the  eyes 

We  looked  from  in  our  youth's  full  prime. 

Couloir  (Jo  rose  is  turned  to  sober  grey, 

Which  grows  more  sombre  every  hour  and  day ; 
And  Fashion  too,  like  all  things  here  below, 

Is  ever  changing,  as  the  sunset  cloud ; 

First  a  vast  mountain,  then  a  fleecy  shroud, 


58  A  BROADWAY  IDYL. 

A  mass  of  darkness,  now  of  crimson  hue, 
Soft,  silver-tinted,  then  a  violet  blue, 

Then  blending'  all  the  shades  in  the  rainbow. 

Now  Fashion's  minions,  in  the  last  new  style, 
Pass  and  repass,  disdaining  the  slight  smile 

That  curls  the  lip  of  ever  scornful  man, 
Whose  brains  inventive  all  new  styles  design, 

From  fancy  goiters  to  arranging-  hair. 
I've  studied  Nature,  and  I've  studied  Art, 
Can  at  a  glance  detect,  in  smallest  part 
Of  a  grand  toilet,  whose  great  Artist's  skill, 
Moulded  the  madam  to  her  august  will, 


A  n no AD  WAY  IDYL.  59 

If  from  the  fashion-plates  of  Harper's  good 
"  Bazar,"  (i  Die  Modenwelt "  or  "  Magazine 
Of  Madam  Demorest,"  the  robes  were  made. 
If  the  rival  artists(21)  of  the  present  day. 
Which  hold  in  Fashion's  world  the  sway 

Of  reigning  queens, 
Their  wondrous  genius  used  to  create 
The  airy,  fairy  figures  slight, 
AVliich  make  this  city  full  of  light. 

I  know,  if  from  our  "  Merchant  Prince "  was 

bought 
The  fabric  rare,  made  in  a  foreign  land. 


60  A  BROADWAY  IDYL. 

Upon  whose  very  surface  seems  inwrought 
A  sightless  eye,  a  wasted,  helpless  hand 
Of  some  poor  wretch,  who  e'en  his  senses  gave 
To  deck  the  garment  over  which  we  rave. 
Those  tasty  habits,  costly,  plain,  and  neat, 
Disclosing-  'neath  their  folds  two  tiny  feet, 
Snugly  encased  in  leather-shoes  thick  soled, 
Are   snares  which  catch  the  unwary  heart  of 

man  ; 
Those   costly  jewels,  too,  from   "  Browne    and 

Spaulding's  "  bought— 
Are  many  a  lesson  to  the  wedded  taught, 
That  Fanchon  bonnet,  ribbon  and  a  flower. 


A   BROADWAY  IDYL.  61 

Speak  to  man's  pocket  with  all  potent  power. 
But  Fashi:>n.  although  charming  for  a  while, 
Has  not  the  lastinir  power  of  a  smile. 

Broadway !  all  irlorions  and   grand,  the  city's 

heart ; 
A  panorama  !  on  the  changing  scene  I  g'aze 

With  reverential  awe. 

Work  of  man's  hand — proof  of  a  mortal's  skill, 
Who  moulds  such  structures  to  his  mighty  will. 
Once,  where  the  c:  Herald  "  palace  stands, 
The  red  man  claimed  his  home  and  lands. 
One  hundred  years  ag'o  Hans  smoked  at  ease 


62  A   BROADWAY  IDYL. 

On  summer  eve,  beneath  the  sheltering1  trees 
"Which  grew  where  now  the  "  Leader,"  "  Tri 
bune,"  "World." 

Is  daily,  weekly,  to  our  gaze  unfurled, 
Sending  abroad  the  city's  different  views 
Of  national  affairs. 

Where  stands  the  office  of  the   Surrogate  and 

<:  Times," 
A  church-bell   pealed    its    sweet    and   solemn 

chimes, 

Not  twenty  years  ago. 
So  the  huire  bmldina*  rears  its  stately  head 


A   JIROADWA  Y  IDYL.  63 

Above  the  city  of  the  sainted  dead. 

Thrice  haunted  spot !  for  when  the  Hall  clock 

Strikes  the  hour  of  ten  eacli  night, 

One  gifted  with  a  two-fold  sight 

Can  witness  scenes,  scenes  so  appalling,  drear, 

That  common  sculs  would  faint  to  even  hear. — 

First  conies  the  red  man.  brandishing  in  air 

His  tomahawk,  showing  despair 

Upon  his  dusky  face  ; 
Then,  with  triumphant  stare, 
He  waves  above  his  head  the  hair, 
Dripping  with  gore,  of  newly  murdered  foe. 
His  pale  wife  follows,  and  a  sad  surprise 


64  A   UROM)\VAY  IDYL. 

Rests  on  her  face,  and  in  her  mournful  eyes. 
They  seem  to  miss  the  grand  old  forest  trees. 
And  with  the  wail,  "  No   home  !  no  place  of 

rest !' 

They  vanish  as  they  came. 
Fantastic  forms  in  dress  of  olden  times 
Enter  at  will,  through  each  self-opening  door, 
Or  oft  arise  in  seeming  through  the  floor. 
Chanting  with  solemn  voices,  old  sweet  hvmns  ; 

o  * 

Such  good  old  tunes,  as  in  the  days  of  yore 
Made  echoes  ring  from  hill-side,  and  from  shore. 
Old  wrinkled  dames, — men  in  their  manhood's 
prime, 


A  BROADWAY  IDYL.  65 

And  round-faced  maidens,  with  their  locks  of 

night, 

Their  crimson  cheeks,  and  eyes  so  fuh  of  light, 
Linger  a  moment,  and  then  fade  away. 

Men  robed  in  later  styles  the  dark  halls  fill, 
Hold  eager  consultation ;  then  a  thrill 
Of  indignation  seems  to  move  the  mass, 
And    to  the  office   of  the   Surrogate  (22)   they 

throng, 

In  a  chill  current,  like  the  whirlwind  strong — 
And  eagerly  they  seek,  in  each  small  nook  to 

find 


66  A  BROADWAY  IDYL. 

Some  traces  of  the  WILL  they  left  behind. 
Some  smiling1  faces  look  upon  me  now, 
But  many  glance,  with  a  dark  lowering"  brow, 
Upon  the  fragments  of  a  broken  will. 

In  deep  sepulchral  tones,  amid  the  gliostly  din, 
A  stern  voice  utters,  ';  Bring1  the  culprit  in." 
And  the  last  Surrogate 

o 

Is  ushered  in,  and  takes  his  chair  of  state ; 
Grim  Death  is  standing-  by  his  head, 
And  o'er  him  spirits  of  the  happy  dead 

Are  keeping"  watch. 
Orphans  and  widows,  with  all  patience  wait 


A  BROADWAY  IDYL.  67 

To  hear  the  verdict  of  the  Surrogate. 

He  tears  the  will,  declares  'tis  LAW'S  command, 

And  in  a  moment  all  the  ghostly  band 

Have  vanished,  save  the  solemn  clerk 

Who  writes  until  earth's  pall  of  night 

Is  changed  for  robes  of  glorious  light. 


Shadows  on  the  snow  are  lying", 
Day  is  dead,  the  year  is  dying ; 
Wailing  winds  around  are  sighing 
For  the  year  that  now  is  dying. 


68  A  BROADWAY  IDYL. 

Tell  me,  year,  before  thy  fleeting-, 
Tell  me  what  will  be  the  greeting1 
Of  the  year  we'll  soon  be  meeting, 
Are  the  hopes  that  fill  me,  cheating  ? 

Old  year,  whisper — still  I  listen  ! 
Are  hopes  only  drops  that  glisten 
For  a  moment,  as  they  christen 
Rose-buds  newly  born  ? 

And  the  old  year  tells  me,  dying, 
In  the  voice  of  winds  soft  sighing — 
"  Child  of  earth,  cease,  cease  thy  crying, 
What  is  life  but  hope  1 


A  BROADWAY  IDYL.  69 

Old  year,  give  me  e'er  thy  leaving* 
Token,  that  I  may  cease  grieving1 ; 
Make  my  faith  pure,  keep  ine  believing 
Both  in  man  and  God. 

Silver  clouds  are  o'er  me  sailing, 
And  the  strickened  year  fast  paling", 
Softly  whispers  'mid  the  wailing — 
"  I  leave  thee  LOVE  and  HOPE." 


NOTES. 


As  this  Book  is  expected  to  have  considerable  circulation 
outside  the  limits  of  the  City,  it  has  been  suggested  that 
a  few  Notes  be  appended,  explanatory  of  the  localisms 
contained  therein  : — 

NOTE   1. 

Loew's,  or  as  it  is  commonly  called,  Fulton  Street  Bridge, 
was  completed  March,  1866,  the  building  being  supervised 
by  the  Hon.  Charles  E.  Loew,  whose  name  has  been  be 
stowed  upon  it  by  an  Act  of  the  Common  Council  of  New 
York. 

It  is  a  large  aerial  structure,  at  the  intersection  of  Broad- 


72  .NOTES. 

wav  and  Fulton  Street,  where  the  thoroughfare  is  continually 
thronged  with  vehicles  of  all  kinds,  rendering  it  almost  im 
possible  for  pedestrians  to  pass. 

NOTE  2. 

Only  for  readers  not  familiar  with  New  York  would  it  be 
necessary  to  say,  that  this  refers  to  the  Police. 

NOTE  3. 

Wall  Street  is  our  temple  of  Mammon,  where  men  of 
money  "  most  do  congregate." 

NOTE  4. 

This  is  no  fancy  sketch.  The  writer  actually  saw  this, — 
saw  a  Southern  soldier  give  alms  to  the  Northern  soldier, 
who  can  be  seen  at  any  time  near  the  Bridge  playing  an 


NOTES.  73 

organ.     Indeed  everything  described  was  seen,  if  not  pre 
cisely  in  the  order  mentioned. 

NOTE  5. 

It  is  but  common  justice  to  say  that  this  manly  sentiment 
is  reported  of  the  Hon.  John  Morrissey. 

NOTE   6. 

Hon.  John  T.  Hoffman  is  Mayor  of  New  York  at  this 
writing,  November  llth,  l8Gt. 

NOTE   7. 

And  the  lion.  Fernando  Wood,  the  rival  candidate  for  the 
Mayoralty. 

NOTE   8. 

Always  at  the  Bridge  are  venders  selling  the  dancing 
toys,    whose    motions   depend   upon   an   clastic   string,    the 


74  NOTES. 

invention    of    which    lias    brought    a   fortune    to    the    in 
ventor. 

NOTE    9. 

This  quotation  i.s  from  Rev.  Dr.  Deems,  and  the  allusion  to 
"  the  prodigal,"  refers  to  a  sermon  preached  by  Dr.  Deem?, 
in  which  he  represents  the  elder  brother  as  worse  than  the 
prodigal.  A  report  of  that  discourse,  which  produced  a 
great  impression  on  its  delivery,  appeal1?  in  ''Every  Month," 
for  September,  published  by  S.  T.  Taylor. 

NOTE  10. 

•'The  Church  of  the  Strangers,"  the  name  of  a  congrega 
tion  composed  of  persons  of  all  denominations,  mostly  stran 
gers  in  New  York  ;  and  its  pastor,  Dr.  Deems,  is  abundant 
in  labors  among  the  sick,  the  poor,  and  the  prisoner,  and 
those  who  have  no  friends.  It  gives  the  author  pleasure  to 
say  a  word  for  an  enterprise  so  catholic  and  so  beneficial. 


NOTES.  75 

NOTE  11.' 

Perhaps  it  is  superfluous  to  mention  the  name  of  the 
venerable  William  C.  Bryant,  of  the  "Evening  Post." 

NOTE  12. 

"Miles  O'Reilly"  is  the  well  known  name  of  Gen. 
Charles  G.  Halpine,  who  is  justly  called  our  "King  of  Song," 
and  who  has  written  certain  beautiful  things,  which  will  be 
remembered  long  after  his  career  as  a  politician  shall  have 
been  forgotten. 

NOTE  13. 

With  whatever  power  Hon.  Horace  Greeley  does  any 
thing,  the  wielding  of  the  pen  is  the  only  thing  he  is 
accused  of  doing  "  with  grace." 

NOTE  14. 

The    "  Wilcox  and   Gibbs'   sewing   machine,"   celebrated 


76  NOTES. 

alike  for  its  simplicity,  rapidity  of  movement,  as  well  as  its 
durability,  was  patented  in  1857,  first  sold  in  1859,  since 
which  time  one  hundred  thousand  have  been  sold. 

NOTE   15. 
A  well  known  and  excellent  restaurant  in  Cortlandt  street. 

NOTE   16. 

Maggie  Mitchell,  the  fascinating  actress,  has  made  this 
character  memorable. 

NOTE  17. 

Play-goers  will  always  know  Joe  Jefferson  by  his  remark 
able  impersonation  of  "  Rip  Yan  Winkle." 

NOTE  18. 

Mrs.  Gen.  Lander,  our  American  actress,  is  believed  to 
surpass  Ristqri  in  the  character  of  EJizafyeth.     Her  goodness 


NOTES.  77 

is  equal  to  her  greatness,  as  her  attentions  to  the  soldiers 
during  the  war  demonstrates. 

NOTE   19. 

Dr.  J.  J.  Craven,  the  physician  attendant  on  Jeffersou 
Davis  at  Fortress  Monroe,  and  author  of  "  Prison  Life 
of  Davis." 

NOTE  20. 

This  actually  occurred  in  the  practice  of  Edward  B. 
Foote,  M.  D.,  the  celebrated  medical  and  electrical  the 
rapeutist,  and  author  of  "  Medical  Common  Sense." 

NOTE  21. 

The  artists  referred  to,  are  Madams  M.  F.  Gillespie  and 
Demorest,  whose  exquisite  taste  has  rendered  them  renowned 
in  the  fashionable  circles,  not  only  of  New  York,  but  of 
the  whole  United  States. 


78  NOTES. 

NOTE  22. 

Hon.  Gideon  J.  Tucker,  who  has  held  important  State 
offices  for  more  than  twenty  years,  and  is  one  of  the  first 
political  writers  of  the  age,  is  the  present  Surrogate  of  New 
York,  and  has  occupied  that  position  for  the  last  five  years. 
It  is  said  of  him  that  he  has  never  been  politically  wrong 
in  his  life. 


FEB     3  1986 


